I'm in Love With an Amnesiac
by Jerry-Berry-Aifricarry
Summary: Yeah... Some shite AU where John is Sherlock's high school councilor based on a series of e-mails between a friend and I from a few years ago... I promise, the prologue is better than this BS Summary.
p style="text-align: left;""Sherlock. Sherlock? Are you still listening to me?" John looked at Sherlock expectantly. Sherlock just gave a lengthy yawn and stared blankly at the wall past John's head. John gave one more try to get Sherlock to respond. "Sherlock. Your mother has been discussing things with me and she's concerned about you." That got Sherlock's attention./p
p style="text-align: left;""Hm?" Sherlock's eyesight focused on John's mustache. He's never liked it. He blinked quickly and apologized. "I'm sorry, Mr. Watson. I'm just tired to day." John sighed and attempted to continue back onto his original plan./p  
p style="text-align: left;""It's okay. It's good that you're getting sleep, though not enough. But... I was told that you've been giving her really empty replies when she's talking to you. You'll say it's fine, but we know that something isn't fine. Could you enlighten me?" /p  
p style="text-align: left;"Sherlock sighed. "Enlighten you how, Mr. Watson?"/p  
p style="text-align: left;"John shifted in his seat, uncomfortable at how Sherlock drew out the "W" in his last name. "Well, she said that it's like talking to a wall. You'll hear what she's saying, but when you give a response, it's like you're not really there. Like someone pulled the string on a talking doll. There's no feeling in your words. Could you tell me what's going on in your mind?"/p  
p style="text-align: left;"Sherlock sat in silence for a moment. "Mr. Watson... I don't know what's going on in my mind. As far as I'm aware there's nothing and everything there."/p  
p style="text-align: left;"John wrote that down in his notebook to discuss with Mrs. Holmes in the days that follow. "Okay then, Sherlock. Okay. Then do you remember anything before October of last year? If my memory is correct, that's when something in you changed. You had had a pseudo mental breakdown and your mind rewound itself about three years."/p  
p style="text-align: left;"Straightening, Sherlock looked directly into John's eyes. "Listen. I don't know you people. How else am I supposed to answer to you guys, all I know is to be polite. You're strangers to me, I get that you people care...but what if I'm not the person you guys are looking for? What if that person died? Memories are what makes a person who they are right? So if I don't have those...than am I really who you think I am? You guys are telling me things like "Your favorite color was this" "Your favorite food was this" "I'm your best friend." "This is your favorite movie." But none of those things are true. Everyone is expecting me to be this person...but I don't even know if this person I supposedly "was" is still even here. Different school, different names, different home, different smells, different foods, different clothes, different body, different hair...everything is different. At this point I'm so confused I don't even know what I remember or what I don't anymore."/p  
p style="text-align: left;"Shocked and confused, John stared in silence. But Sherlock wasn't done./p  
p style="text-align: left;""I don't know...I feel bad, I can't break their hearts and say "I don't know you" or "I don't remember." So I just say "I'll remember eventually," or "I feel like I knew you once, but I can't quite remember." They're all so desperate it's making me sick. I can't run away. Doctors, teachers, strangers, problems, pain, head aches, nightmares, missing memories, it's all turning into this one big jumbled mess of confusion."Read this." "Write this" "Watch this" "Listen" "Taste this" "Do this" They say, it will help you remember they say...but it's not. They're just forcing things down my throat and expecting me to remember it."/p  
p style="text-align: left;"John abruptly stood up and sat his notebook down on the table. "Okay,Sherlock. We're done for the day. Please... Go back to class." So Sherlock left without a word. John wasn't sure how to deal with what the boy had just said. Violet had to hear this immediately. Glancing at the security-camera the principal had installed as a precaution, John decided to all Sherlock's mother./p  
p style="text-align: left;" /p  
p style="text-align: left;"Okie dokie! Since I suck at life and summaries and conclusions this is where it ends for now! Think of this as just a prologue okay?/p 


End file.
